Call Me Sensei
by Tintinnabula
Summary: Kakashi hates Halloween and kids, although not necessarily in that order. But a costumed stranger shows him that he hates loneliness more. And that lust masquerading as love is not enough. He wants the real thing. So why can't he have her? Kakasaku


**Call Me "Sensei."**

A Naruto Fan Fiction

_Naruto and associated characters are not my property. Rather, they are the creative work and property of Masashi Kishimoto. This is merely a work of fan fiction. No money will be made from this story._

_Author's note: My second Halloween fic, although this one is not sad. Lemon within. Not for those under age 18, okay? Otherwise, enjoy! Oh, and if you'd like to see the doll (yes, _doll_) that inspired the character described here, check my profile page for a link. I already own the pink-haired one, but the black-haired one is on my list._

_..._

**Call Me "Sensei."**

Kakashi stretched as he attempted to ignore the doorbell that was sounding once again. It had rung intermittently all evening, due to the fact that Konoha's kids either could not read or preferred not to do so. If they _did_ read the large, though sloppily written sign and follow the bold arrow directing them to a cheap plastic pumpkin there would be no need to ring his bell every five minutes and ruin his evening.

The usually penny-wise ninja had splurged on chocolate candy bars to avoid this very problem. It was also to avoid a reprise of last year's events: Kakashi spent the better part of last year's November first picking dew-moistened shreds of toilet paper from the trees and shrubbery that surrounded his small house. He had no desire to go through that again.

Some ruffian had probably emptied the contents of the pumpkin-shaped bowl into an over sized shopping bag or pillowcase brought along to take advantage of just this type of opportunity: a candy stash set out by a well-meaning, though lazy adult who trusted foolishly in the honesty of the younger generation.

Kids today did not respect their elders. This problem seemed to intensify from year to year. Pissing off an S-class jounin was not something Kakashi would have done as a child. Of course, he had played by the rules back then, and was significantly more rigid than his peers. But even his peers had shown a modicum of respect to their elders. Today's youth were complacent, which was to be expected of a generation that had been born into peace. The fourth ninja world war was over, and alliances were stronger than ever among the great shinobi nations and their minor satellites. Kids didn't understand their elders' capabilities nor what life was like a few years before. A ninja's job these days was strictly espionage-- the type of work that kept nations honest-- and body guarding. Students weren't instructed in the finer arts of homicide until the end of their genin years. It probably wasn't even mentioned in Academy classes anymore.

The bell was still ringing. Kakashi turned up his television's volume, but found he could not concentrate. Some idiot kid was probably leaning on the ringer, intent on ticking him off. Tonight was not mischief night-- that was the night before this holiday-- but it might as well have been. Kakashi had wisely placed sharpened tashibishi and self-detonating ink bombs on the ground outside his home the night before, and headed out to spend the evening at his favorite haunt. He had no desire to wait inside his home for the pranks to begin, and less desire to wait for each group of kids to arrive before chasing them away like the porch bound, grumpy old men he remembered from his youth. He was only thirty-eight-- not even close to middle age. It wasn't right for these kids to make him feel so old and crotchety.

He'd heard about the results of his scheme early the next morning. The Hokage was not pleased to be wakened by a passel of irate parents, who'd nearly knocked down his door to present him with their blue-stained (but only slightly bloodied) children.

So the man of many hobbies stayed home this evening to keep an eye on things. Even if the Hokage had not demanded this Kakashi really had no choice. The kids were likely out for revenge. Although young academy students they knew enough to pull a prank or two. There had to be a few among them with smarts, and a fire-user or two. Kakashi closed his fireplace damper (to ward off pyroclastic bombs sent down his chimney) and fully wet down his specimen plants before retiring for the night. He'd be furious if they ruined the plants he'd arduously collected on every trip outside the country, lovingly protected from frost and drought and cultivated to healthy adulthood. He had a right to his pursue his interests, strange though they might appear to outsiders. He'd find a way to pay these kids back, should any of his hard won plants be damaged.

He hadn't thought so in the past, but Kakashi was sure of it now. He hated kids. From squalling, drooling, spit-uppy babies in foul smelling diapers to insouciant toddlers and incorrigible grade schoolers, it wasn't necessary to choose the worst variety. Almost all annoyed him, though not quite as much as the mothers who insisted on foisting their snot-nosed kids upon him for photographs and blessings. Holding them was bad, but talking to the older versions was worse. And teaching them... that was a nightmare.

Wisely no Hokage had given him another group to train after the debacle of Team Seven. Although Kakashi hadn't tried to screw that job up (as he had all prior teaching assignments) he'd kissed the pig anyway. Over and over and over. His charges had annoyed him from the start. The hopelessly emo Sasuke in whom he'd invested the most energy, seeing in the boy many character traits he shared, had run away before ultimately turning on the village and bringing about its near destruction. Most of the boy's problems were due to a very poor decision from the council of elders, but Kakashi couldn't help feel some responsibility for the way things turned out. If he'd been a better teacher, perhaps the boy wouldn't have left and started on the road to his own destruction. Perhaps a more inspiring teacher-- one with a love of children-- might have changed his world view.

Naruto had turned out okay-- he was Hokage, after all-- but a lot of that could be attributed to Jiraiya's influence. Kakashi had played a role, but as mentor, not teacher. He'd come in after the heavy lifting was done, to put some final flourishes on the nearly completed work of art. Kakashi played no role in the sculpting of the future leader of Konoha from the dense lump of rock that was his beginning. He'd pretty much ignored the boy, preferring the finely veined marble, rife with potential, that was Uchiha Sasuke.

And Sakura. Poor Sakura. She was the worst of the lot, the type of kid he'd always hated most. The girl he met twelve years prior was a prime example of the two-faced suck-up, the boy-crazy middle schooler who hid her own abilities and intelligence as she tried to snare the object of her infatuation. The girl had driven all them crazy, in different ways. Naruto was crazy in love with her, willing to ignore her acerbic comments and the bold-faced insults she threw at him. He was so warped with preteen desire that he saw every bone-crunching assault as a hug, every slap as a lingering, loving touch.

She drove Sasuke mad with irritation. The boy was focused so completely on revenge that he had no time for childish things like puppy love. Sakura might have been an alien species, as far as the Uchiha was concerned. Sasuke didn't understand her language, let alone her motivation. She was like a buzzing fly, a petty annoyance that nevertheless broke ones concentration at crucial moments. There were times Kakashi thought the boy might deck her.

But after Sasuke broke her heart, Kakashi began to see Sakura differently. She matured tremendously in the months following her first love's defection, gathering within herself a strength Kakashi didn't think existed, and compassion unlike anything he'd seen before. Yes, she cried a lot, but not out of weakness. Rather, this was her empathy on display. Soon after Sasuke left she recognized how little she'd done to grow herself as a ninja, and had applied herself to the task of building her skills with a tenacity Kakashi saw in few others. She abandoned the whimpering, girlish persona she'd cultivated for Sasuke's benefit and became the kunoichi she should have been all along.

None of this was due to Kakashi's efforts, of course. Sakura's shishou was responsible for her amazing growth. The teen modeled herself on the Godaime, taking on her mannerisms, emulating her medical skills, even learning the then Hokage's chakra manipulation techniques.

The young woman who returned to the reconstituted team Kakashi was a completely different person than the one he'd left behind to fend for herself. She was formidable, a person of keen intelligence and nearly unrivaled strength. Better still, she was no longer a kid. She and Naruto were now his peers, and Kakashi was able to relate to them differently. He found he enjoyed their company. Gone were the snot-nosed remarks and childish behaviors that had defined both of them so fully. They were replaced with the fully adult circumspection and true shinobi ethic that every teacher hopes to cultivate in his students.

But Naruto quickly moved on, easily surpassing his one-time teacher, earning for himself the position he'd aimed for since childhood. And he was a wonderful leader, something Kakashi had not thought possible in the boy's early years. Their relationship changed, of course: leader became subordinate, and student became teacher. The small window of time where they might have been comrades quickly shut, and a necessary formality soon imbued their interactions.

Sakura grew, too, but Kakashi found ways to keep her in his life. He had to. Friends were hard to find, and as shinobi, easily lost in battle. When one found a person one could trust, someone truly simpatico it only made sense to build a relationship. For Kakashi this rarely happened. He hadn't lied years before when he told Sasuke that all his loved ones were long gone. But over time, the solitary copy ninja allowed this to change. Genma was a friend of sorts, a drinking buddy and partner in casual activities and beery competitions. And there was the interesting relationship Kakashi shared with Gai: a quasi rivalry that Kakashi pretended to disdain but secretly cherished. Gai was strange-- there was no doubt of this. He was a bit too touchy-feely for the copy ninja, but the man's heart was in the right place. If he'd chosen to make the man his confidant, Kakashi was sure that Gai would have listened intently and offered heartfelt, though saccharine advice.

But Kakashi chose Sakura for this instead. He wormed his way into her life, finding excuses to meet up with her regularly. He told himself that there were still some things he could teach her, things that might make up for the half-assed job he'd done years earlier. He told her this as well, although not in those particular words. She was a genjutsu type, he said instead. It was a sin not to make use of such a rare and useful talent. Kakashi insisted she take him on as teacher, and wove a fairly incredible story about how she might use the technique in fulfilling her medical duties. She agreed and they met informally each week. He imparted to her everything he knew about this secret art, and found that this type of teaching quite agreed with him. He loved that she still called him "Sensei," although he admonished her each time she did so, reminding her that they'd been equals for some time, and that the words had lost their meaning. She tried not to use the appellation, but it slipped out from time to time, whenever she was angry, or extra excited. Beneath his mask Kakashi smiled each time. He loved the admiration he saw in her eyes when he taught her something new. He loved her eagerness to succeed and her delight when she met her far-flung goals.

But more than that, he loved being with her. They grew close quickly, and Sakura soon became the bearer of some of his most intimate secrets. She'd listened quietly when he told her of his father's suicide, of how he'd finally made things right, first with himself, then with his dad. He told her the tale of Rin, Obito and the Sharingan. And she'd cried when she found out how Rin died, just as he had years before.

He'd even taken off his mask for her, satisfying a need unspoken for many years. She was unimpressed. Perhaps she'd been expecting more. Or maybe she'd been expecting to be repulsed. Either way, he'd lost.

The doorbell was still ringing, in a rhythmic pattern now, interrupting the copy ninja's reverie and making clear to him that the person standing outside his house was not going to go away until Kakashi threw open the door and growled a warning. The copy ninja pulled on his pants, fully cognizant of the likely consequences of going to the door in his boxers. The village gossips would squawk should he present his half clothed body to an innocent trick or treater. The last thing Kakashi needed was another upbraiding from the village's number-one-knucklehead-turned-Hokage.

Kakashi turned down the sound on the program he was barely watching and trekked to the door, remote in hand.

"If there's no candy left, blame your friends—" he began as he opened the door.

But no costume clad brat stood outside. Rather, he saw an impossibly beautiful woman.

"Hatake Kakashi?"

He nodded, and sighed as he noticed the toilet paper clad trees just beyond the porch.

Stupid kids. He shook his head before directing his attention back to the woman on his doorstep.

"Took you long enough," his visitor said in a soft voice, head tilted slightly to the side. "To answer, I mean. Brrr. I'm cold. Mind if I come inside to warm up?"

She was as pretty as Junko, Kakashi noticed, classically beautiful apart from her wide-set eyes. He glanced back at the large screen TV where an actress stood scantily clad in a costume that far surpassed Jiraiya's original illustrations. His gaze returned to the real-life woman standing on his porch and a decision was quickly made. Her costume was even prettier. And in 3-D. Kakashi pressed the remote and the television screen faded to black.

He invited the woman inside, hoping she hadn't heard the moaning coming from the television's over sized speakers. That would be hard to explain.

"I don't think I know you." Of course he didn't. Kakashi didn't date. His only interactions with females were with an asexual ANBU captain he was occasionally paired up with, and Sakura. This woman looked like neither of them. Her hair was raven, and tinged slightly with blue he noticed as she entered his well lit entranceway. It was cut so that deep bangs covered her eyebrows and perfectly set off large, purple-pink eyes edged with thick lashes. Despite their aberrant color they reminded him of a cat's eyes, tilted upwards ever so slightly at their corners to give her an optimistic, happy look that was quite enchanting.

And she wasn't dressed in any way he was accustomed to, either. His ANBU mate dressed like any other member of that team, and Sakura dressed as modestly as she'd always had.

This woman was costumed as a cat, to match her eyes, Kakashi guessed although she'd interpreted her subject matter quite loosely.

She was wearing pink and black satin ears, as would be expected, and a velvet tail was pinned to her behind, but very little else. Instead of paws she had long black fingernails, and her face sported no whiskers or colored nose. In place of a cozy plush costume that would have been appropriate for the very cool evening, this wannabe feline wore a short skirt and cropped, bra-like top. It had once been a push-up style undergarment, Kakashi guessed, but now its black lace fabric was edged with a fringe of jet beads that swayed and sparkled as she moved into his living room.

It was rude not to look at her face, but Kakashi found his eyes roving over her form instead. He couldn't stop himself. Of course, she wouldn't be dressed in this way if she didn't expect such treatment-- or want it, he rationalized. Her breasts were large, but the clothes she wore were tiny. She wasn't as generously endowed as the Godaime, but came very, very close. The décolletage of her top showed the perfect curve of her breasts, and an enchanting, tiny mole placed a centimeter or two from her cleavage stood like a marker advertising treasures beyond. Her abdominals were those of a woman who worked out for hours a day. They were taught and flat, her muscles well defined but still feminine. Her navel was outlined with a well-thought out tattoo, that served to draw the eyes to the remarkable engineering of her torso, and the short, pleated skirt she wore low on her hips stood as warning for the switchbacked curves below.

Such legs! Even without fishnet stockings they would be incredible, but with them she was Kakashi's porno fantasy embodied. Someone had studied up on the _Icha, Icha_ series. That was for certain. She wore black patent shoes that would make a stripper proud. She was a centimeter or two taller than him in them, and though he usually would have made certain a visitor removed his or her shoes upon entering, Kakashi was happy when she kept hers on. They really made the costume.

He had to ask her, however. It was likely that her visit tonight was some kind of joke.

"Who sent you?"

"A good friend. Someone who's worried about you, and doesn't think you get out enough. Who thinks you're missing out."

"Genma."

"That's all I can say. Sorry." She winked at him, before moving past him and making herself comfortable in his favorite recliner. Not that she _sat_ in it. Rather, she draped herself over it. Never before had brown corduroy seemed so sexy.

"Why are you here?"

"Why do you think?" She smiled, and the single dimple she displayed accented her beauty. "To make you happy, of course."

She must be from one of Konoha's houses of ill repute. The village tended to look the other way, not publicly acknowledging the existence of such establishments, but tacitly recognizing that men had their needs. And that men who did the dirty work of a ninja had even greater needs at times. It was for the public good to allow such places to exist. But not every ninja made use of their services.

Genma did, twice weekly if his incessant boasting was to be believed. The fees he paid for full body massages and the like probably underwrote several houses. He blew at least half his paycheck on such sexual pursuits each and every month. Kakashi had heard his friend ramble on and on about the attributes of the various girls he favored. The different houses specialized, but Genma had one or more regulars at each. Kakashi racked his mind for any bits of half-heard information that might help him identify _this_ girl.

Ming Li had black hair, the copy ninja recalled, and gorgeous lips that lived up to the sensual experience their full shape promised. This girls lips were thinner, but still full of promise. And Noriko-- wasn't she a brunette, as well? But she was green-eyed, if Kakashi recalled Genma's description correctly. He knew nothing about her-- or any of the other girls Genma favored-- first hand. Kakashi didn't go to brothels. He wasn't that kind of person. He would rather keep to himself. And why should he pay for an experience he could emulate on his own, given a good movie or book and his own willing hand? Apart from that, he had another reason for keeping to himself, although he'd only recently realized it.

Genma had to be behind this Halloween prank. Gai would never do such a thing-- Konoha's green menace found the idea of prostitution repellent. It was a desecration of the sweet flower of youth, he'd said on more than one occasion, a debasement of the essence that was the very spirit of life. Or some such drivel. Yes, the joke's originator had to be Genma. There was no one else Kakashi could think of who'd so brazenly send a prostitute to his door. Especially on a night where children were out and about.

"So, do you want to play?" The brunette had ensconced herself in his recliner as though it was a throne, crossing her legs to show the margin of milk white skin between the hem of her skirt and the elastic garter securing her hose. Kakashi found himself wondering what kind of panties she wore. A thong, maybe, although he would have seen the telltale waistband as she'd walked away from him, swinging her long tail behind her with every wiggle of her hips. Or maybe lacy cheeky panties. Those were nice. They left something to the imagination.

But he shouldn't be thinking such things. He should thank this unnamed woman for the offer, scrounge up some cash as a tip for her trouble, and send her packing. Genma was probably laughing it up right now, imagining Kakashi's discomfort at the situation.

This gave the words "trick or treat" new meaning.

Ha, ha.

But Genma had good taste, at least. It pleased Kakashi that his friend would go to such trouble for him, even if it was meant partially as a joke, and partially as a well-intended push to be a bit more social. It was true that the often decorated copy ninja was nearly a recluse. In recent years he'd become more of a loner than he'd ever been, devoting his spare time to his books, his movies and his garden. All three of his closest friends chided him about this. He knew he really should do something about it. Nothing good could come from isolation. But the copy ninja felt extreme discomfort about accepting tonight's gift. He was intrigued, definitely so. But to take what was offered without any compunction- somehow this felt like cheating.

"Why do you hesitate?" If he hadn't known better, Kakashi might have thought his guest was purring. She looked satisfied and languid, like a cat spread out on a warm winter hearth.

He swallowed the lump forming at the back of his throat, but did not reply. She was so appealing, so perfectly matched to his taste.

"You're not attached, are you?" The violet-eyed beauty smiled expectantly, gracing him again with her smile. Somehow he knew his answer, whether affirmative or negative wouldn't phase her. From the twinkle of mirth in her eye he could tell she enjoyed her job and planned to follow through with whatever it was she'd been paid to do.

"No. It's just that..."

He wished he _were_ attached. But that was beyond the realm of possibility.

Sakura had no idea that he'd developed feelings for her in the past year. Kakashi supposed it was inevitable that it would happen. The pink haired kunoichi was widely regarded as one the village's most beautiful women. She'd matured from a clumsy, awkward cygnet into a graceful swan, and every man had noticed. At least half of them, married or not had a crush on her.

She had her choice of these men, and sometimes regaled Kakashi with tales of her latest admirers, and the silly things they did to get her attention. Thankfully, she saved the more specific details of these encounters for her female friends. Kakashi had no desire to hear of her sexual conquests, although he was sure she'd tell those stories artfully. He heard enough at the baths, where the names of kunoichi often popped up. Sakura was at the top of the list of most of the men there. Her name came up frequently as the perfect kunoichi, the one most graced with beauty, charm, intelligence and wit. And sex appeal. That was 2/3 of the score assigned to each. Kakashi always grew quiet and listened carefully when his student's name came up in conversation. He wanted to hear what others said about her, despite the fact that doing so agitated him. But he didn't try to stop her from dating or speak out on her behalf: he had no right. So Sakura entertained quite frequently, and Kakashi had no doubt that one of these days she'd find a man who suited her perfectly, one completely at home with her immense strength and matching intelligence. But a part of Kakashi, a small selfish part hoped she'd stay single. For him.

But _Kakashi_ dating her was out of the question. The village had rules about such things, and for good reason. Fraternization (beyond simple chatting) between student and teacher was forbidden, just as it was between team captains and their subordinates. The messy relationships produced by such interactions were difficult and painful to resolve, invariably leading to hurt feelings and fractured teams. Even when teams dissolved, their original dynamic remained. This was to be preserved at all costs: one never knew when a cell might need to be reconstituted. It didn't matter that she was his equal as far as rank or skill was concerned. That she still called him "Sensei" was ample evidence of the bond that still connected them. As Sakura's former teacher and captain, Kakashi couldn't date her. It just wasn't allowed.

But that didn't mean he couldn't keep her company. He often imagined taking part in long term platonic relationship with her-- a faithful one. It didn't need to be sexual. He had other outlets for that. But it did need to be exclusive. Just the two of them, enjoying each other's presence, making each other happy.

Kakashi did make her happy. She smiled frequently when she was around him, more so than she did at other times. The copy ninja made certain of this, surprising her at work where he saw that she more often than not wore a stern expression, or running into her when she was chatting in a cafe or restaurant with a group of female friends. She laughed in their presence, but her affect was different. Her eyes were not full of the joy he saw when they were together.

He wouldn't mind playing house with her. Having her near him-- even if she slept down the hall-- would make him tremendously happy. She was a comfort to him, a luxury he had not felt in many years.

But he couldn't ask her to stay by his side in a non-sexual, permanently stunted relationship. Kakashi never brought up the subject, and steadfastly limited their time together to the informal lessons in genjutsu he'd suggested. He couldn't ask for more. For one thing, she didn't see him that way. And why would she? How could a woman in the prime of her life be attracted to a grey-haired man closer to old age than youth? She was twenty-four, a fresh-cut diamond among the lesser jewels of the village. In contrast Kakashi was silver, tarnished black by years of oxidation. Sakura deserved a setting of platinum, someone sparkling and uncorrupted. Someone to enhance the beauty she displayed both inside and out. Yes, Kakashi knew he made her happy, but she deserved so much more than that. She deserved love. Real, authentic, emotional and _physical_ love. Something he simply couldn't give her.

"You're in love, aren't you?" The call girl's statement jogged him back to the present. The black-haired beauty smiled benignly. There was no trace of dismay or condescension in her voice. Her gentle tone suggested she was genuinely curious.

"I... guess so."

"And it's unrequited?"

"No. Not that. I mean, I don't know. We've never..."

"You've never told her."

The copy ninja nodded reluctantly. He was furious with himself for sharing such a private piece of information-- something he'd shared with no one else. This woman wasn't a therapist. Her job description was about as far as one could get from that. She was paid to fuck with peoples' bodies, not their minds. But Kakashi felt oddly at ease around her. She seemed to have no expectations of him. This recognition was strangely comforting.

"Why not?"

He sighed a breath filled with the dejected acceptance of a man who has realized finally how bureaucracies function. "It would never work. She could never... _We_ could never... It's different for ninja. There are _rules_." Arbitrary rules that interfered with what was really important.

"Ah. I think I understand. I know a lot about these things. Love, that is. In my line of work people tell me all kinds of things they would never share with a stranger. Or even with a loved one." The cat-costumed woman smiled again. "But I never tell. Your secret is safe with me. Even your darkest ones."

"What's your name?"

"It doesn't matter, does it? I can be anyone you want. You can call me _her_ name if you like."

"That wouldn't feel right."

"Then just call me Koneko."

The black kitten stood, stretched languorously and crossed the room. It was as if she owned the place, Kakashi thought as he watched her movements. Typical cat. She had her character down-- that was for sure. The pink-eared stray returned with a dining room chair and gestured for him to sit.

"I'm here for you. To please you in any way I can. So," she winked at him, "what can I do for you?"

"I don't..."

"You can't be faithful to a relationship that doesn't exist," she murmured.

"I know."

"Let me dance for you."

She moved to the stereo and pawed through a stack of old-style recordings stacked neatly by the music player. If she were a real cat, her tail would be standing straight up, Kakashi thought with a smile. Her curiosity was palpable.

"You like jazz. Interesting. Me, too."

She selected a recording Kakashi hadn't listened to in ages, and swayed softly as the music began to play.

At first she stood some distance from him, but she still managed to fill his field of view. Averting his eyes toward the ceiling or floor would be rude, Kakashi decided, so he focused on her arms instead. He could sit through one dance if he focused on their musculature and cast any other thoughts aside as they bubbled to the surface of his consciousness.

She was perfectly built for a dancer, lithe and willowy, with long, lean muscles reminiscent of a jungle cat. She most closely resembled a panther, he realized, a velvet-coated cat whose every move was graceful, yet deliberate and precise. Each motion embodied a surety of body and mind he'd seen elsewhere on few occasions.

She moved her arms moved sinuously above her head, affording Kakashi a better view of her creamy breasts. Their areolae peeked out from behind the black lace curtain of her bra. They were palest tan, not the pink one might expect with skin so pale, suggesting the dancer would become as tawny as a lion in summer should she allow herself the luxury of an afternoon's bask in the sun.

"Do you like what you see, Kakashi?"

He barely heard her. His thoughts were focused not on the relatively asexual features of her upper arms, but on the tiny mole on her breast that moved every so slightly with each breath. There was probably another somewhere under her bra. What fun it would be to connect the dots. With his tongue, of course.

He shouldn't be thinking such thoughts. He silently admonished himself and tried his damnedest to ignore the beauty shimmying before him. Each movement caused her satin curtain of hair to shimmer in the dimly lit room, like the black fur rippling above sinewy, well-used muscles.

She noticed his concentration, and in response bent her arms behind to unfasten her garment. She shook herself loose from it, timing her movements to the sensuously throbbing bass line of the music he'd forgotten to hear. He watched her breasts jiggle and was mesmerized by their soft repeated bounce. They probably felt like velvet, or the finest satin fabric.

The music was affecting him, even if he was not consciously paying attention to it. It had lured him into this unfathomable mood, he realized. Funny that she'd chosen this particular song, a melody nearly guaranteed to send him over the edge. Perhaps it was a trade secret: maybe call girls and their ilk compiled play lists of the tunes most likely to bring a man to orgasm.

He wouldn't have guessed this song would be on that list, however. It was an obscure melody he'd first heard in the Earth country, just before the outbreak of the third world war. This was long ago, before he'd acknowledged Obito as his friend and before Rin had belatedly confessed her feelings for him. Their team could only afford lodgings in the dodgiest area of town. Their hotel was located above a hostess club and this song had played intermittently throughout the evening.

A twelve-year old Kakashi sat in the window that night, watching the comings and goings of visitors to the club. Some were dressed shabbily, while others were obviously slumming it for the evening, eager to partake of the renowned physicality of the women populating Earth's hostess bars.

Kakashi had his first wet dream that night, a dream that starred a hostess he'd glimpsed on her cigarette break, standing in the alley just below his window. A girl with long dark hair and legs that seemed to extend forever. A girl not unlike the "little cat" dancing in front of him. The same song played as she stripped for him in his first sex dream, his mind melding the images he'd seen in gravure magazines with the shadowy image of the scantily dressed girl from the street.

Had he told Genma of that night? Kakashi didn't think so. He'd hardly remembered it himself, until now.

"Come back to me. Don't be so rude," the black clad sex kitten chided him.

The copy ninja looked up at his private dancer and sighed as she licked her finger and caressed each nipple, urging each into a turgid state of excitement.

She turned around and exposed her back to him, lifting her luxuriant hair to expose her elegantly long neck and a nape that begged to be caressed. Whoever said the neck was the most sensual part of a woman was wrong, but close: it definitely ranked up there. But the backside wriggling in front of him currently took top honors.

With her rear still toward him, Kakashi took the opportunity to lift his hitae ate slightly, just enough to half-expose his Sharingan. He quickly examined her flow of chakra. It seemed possible that this was some trick. Koneko could possibly be a man-- another ninja doing an extended henge no jutsu as some elaborate practical joke. But her chakra was civilian. It flowed and ebbed chaotically, if a little strongly.

It moved a bit faster than he might have expected, too, but the fact that his Halloween visitor was excited would probably account for this. Kakashi was no expert when it came to sex. He preferred to go it alone and could count on the fingers of one hand every partnered experience he'd had in his near forty years. During those rare occasions he'd never thought to analyze chakra flow, and it had never come up in any of the Uchiha family scrolls.

But even to a neophyte like Kakashi, it was clear his trick-or-treater _was_ excited. He nearly laughed. He had never believed Genma's exaggerated stories of getting it on with the girls of the brothel. Sure he might have paid for three on one (or more on occasion) but Kakashi had doubted the girls had gotten as crazy as the orally fixated jounin claimed. They'd asked for more, Genma claimed, and had kept him up all night with their insatiable demands. But those girls were professionals, _paid_ to please him. Surely doing so got to be old hat after a while. It was just a job, no matter how handsome and generous the client.

But apparently Kakashi was wrong. Unless "Little Neko" was a damn fine actress and in perfect control of her bodily functions, she was most definitely aroused. The copy ninja's finely honed sense of smell could detect the faintly musky fragrance of a pussy made ready for sex: the fact that said kitty was only centimeters away from him made it obvious.

Her breathing deepened as she placed one foot on his chair, just between his half-spread legs. She unbuckled one shoe, and then the other, brushing his thigh slightly with each newly freed foot.

Her smile was predatory. She was clearly aware of her power over the opposite sex. Even more clear was the fact that she relished it.

The dancer's hosiery came next. She removed each stocking terribly slowly, turning her backside to Kakashi as she unhooked each garter and rolled the thin nylon garments over well-sculpted thighs and down her legs. The copy ninja glimpsed her panties-- it was hard not to in a skirt that short. They were black as he'd hoped and lacy, only half covering the firm half globes of her well-exercised ass.

Such a beautiful ass. Kakashi couldn't help imagining how it would feel against him.

"Touch it if you want." She seemed to be able to read his mind.

Kakashi reached his hand out gingerly, and with a single finger stroked the moon-white skin of her thigh, moving upwards until he reached the skimpy fabric of her undergarment.

She giggled as she slapped away his hand. "Not yet. Bad boy. Don't you know the rules of a lap dance?"

Her rebuke broke the copy ninja's trance. A wave of embarrassment overtook him and Kakashi quickly pulled his hand away and cleared his throat. "Really. This is enough."

His mistress of the night regarded him through half-closed eyes. "At least let me finish. Then you can send me on your way. If that's really what you want."

She didn't wait for his response. With a practiced hand she unzipped her skirt. It fell to the ground with a silken whoosh, puddling around her ankles before she gracefully kicked it out of her way. In a single move she was on top of him, straddling him.

Her flesh did not touch his directly, but he could feel the warm pressure of her inner thighs against his own through the thick, knit fabric of his pants. She rocked against him enticingly, moving her breasts within millimeters of his mouth.

If wanted to, he could lick her, nibble and bite the hardened apex of each full mound.

She touched him more intimately, fabric against fabric, her sex flush against his. Again she giggled, a low sonorous sound that was enticingly sexy. It was as devastating as any other weapon in her arsenal.

"It's okay to want me."

Kakashi groaned as he felt her moisture of her sex. The wetness seeped through the soft knit fabric of his sweats, through his boxers to anoint the hypersensitive skin of his own hardened member.

"Kakashi, you can have me if you want."

"Call me 'Sensei.'"

"Sensei," she purred, looking deeply into his eyes. He wished they were green, a cool elegant jade that seemed to observe all without judgment.

"Do you want me, Sensei?"

He pulled her against him, in case she had any doubt, grinding her eager flesh against his own. If he ever told her the truth of things-- that he wanted her desperately, but couldn't have her--he knew Sakura would understand. She was too good a person not to. Still, he felt guilty, as though he were cheating on her.

Kakashi's frisky black-haired kitten wriggled out of her last piece of clothing, save the silken cat ears perched atop her head. She waved the sodden garment before him, and laughed as he inhaled deeply, savoring the fragrance of physical excitement. The scrap of lace smelled of sex, desire, and the promise of release. Of everything he needed right now.

He had to have her, he realized. He'd deal with the guilt later.

He therefore didn't object when she freed him from his pants. He eagerly assisted her, pushing aside the thin cotton fabric of his shorts to unburden his throbbing organ. He gasped as she immediately ensheathed herself around him. He hadn't expected that to happen so soon.

She was perfectly wet, perfectly tight, hot and seemingly custom built for him. Kakashi gasped again as she lifted up slightly then impaled herself more deeply on his hardened cock.

"Is this what you want, Sensei? Is this right?"

"God--" was all he could manage in response. The thought center of his brain was short circuited, its impulses surpassed by the most primitive portions of his brain, those devoted for eons to pleasure, sex and jealousy.

All he wanted right now was her. Completely. Totally.

"Could you do something for me?" He managed to gasp.

"Mmm. Anything." Her eyes took on a dreamy aspect as she smiled.

"Your voice. Could you make it a little..."

"Yes?" She didn't seem to be offended. "A little what?"

"Um...hmm. More...girlish, I guess."

"Like this?" She raised the pitch of her voice slightly-- not so much as those girls who ran the elevators in major cities-- just enough to seem a tad less mature, less worldly.

"Perfect."

He wanted her so much, he realized.

He wanted her to be Sakura.

It couldn't hurt to pretend. Kakashi closed his eyes and imagined Sakura bouncing hard against him, Sakura enrobing him with the most exquisite of sensations. He wanted to thrust against her until she cried out with abandon, until he emptied himself inside of her.

The copy couldn't help but call out her name.

"Sakura-- is that her name? The person whom you love?"

He grunted before pulling down his mask and pressing his lips to hers. Surprisingly, the little kitten didn't resist. A spark of reason lit the copy ninja's mind momentarily. Genma had said the girls never kissed. It was the one thing that was seemingly forbidden. Kakashi pushed the thought from his mind. What the hell did Genma know? He wasn't here, now, with this woman.

She was kissing him back. With abandon, moaning softly in delight as his lips moved to her neck, then her collarbone and breasts. She arched her back with feline flexibility as she offered herself to him. He eagerly partook of her flesh, tugging and teasing on each hardened nipple with half bared teeth.

"Sensei--"

"Say it louder. God--"

"Do you want me to come, Sensei?"

"God, Sakura, yes. Come. Come, damn it."

He felt her tighten around him spasmodically, and he instinctively grasped her hips to thrust her downwards so that she ground against him, exciting her further. He closed his eyes as he imagined his favorite student favoring him.

"Say it!"

"Sensei. Sensei!"

He listened as she expelled her breath in short, sharp gasps, and he felt her body tremble under his hands as she climaxed.

With an effort he stood, bracing her as she continued to move against him, not fully spent. He moved them to the floor, so that she was supine and he was in control, and began to thrust against her deeply. She accommodated him, pulling her legs back fully so that she was completely exposed to him.

His breathing deepened and the room began to darken as his body reached the inexorable conclusion of this shared exercise.

"Sakura. God, Sakura--"

"Don't come yet, Sensei."

He barely heard her, but did feel her warm fingers against his member.

"Stop for a moment."

Kakashi felt a rush of blood to his head as the rest of his body obeyed her. She must have found some pressure point known only to women of the evening. His need to climax, overwhelming mere seconds ago, was less severe.

"You have me all night, you know."

He rested above her, placing the bulk of his weight on her forearms and chuckled. That would be something, if Genma heard he had lasted all of five minutes with a woman who was possibly the brothel's finest. The news would certainly get back to him. The man had a way of extracting gossip.

Koneko was moving under him, moving her hips in a bump and grind that was excruciatingly pleasant. He felt his blood surge again, and his cock grow rock hard as she rhythmically clenched and relaxed the well-trained muscles encircling him.

He quickly pulled out, and knelt in front of her fully exposed sex, and ran his finger along a fine trail of neatly waxed and trimmed hairs as raven as those covering the rest of her body.

He wished they were pink as he closed his eyes and tasted her.

He wished this intimacy was something he could share with his student, something she would want and even ask for. Something that wasn't forbidden by arbitrary dictate.

He wanted to feel the blood pounding through her body as she reacted to each lick, each kiss, each sensual caress.

He wanted to hear her moan his name.

"Sensei."

She sounded just like her. Just like his perfect Sakura.

"Oh, Sensei. You're going to make me--"

She bucked underneath him as his tongue caressed the key bundle of nerves hidden within her folds. His beautiful student.

"I need you... inside of me...Sensei."

But the truth was... she _wasn't_.

She wasn't Sakura and all of this was a mockery.

Kakashi withdrew from her, shook his head, and stood, pulling up the pants wrapped around his ankles as he did so.

"Get up."

The black cat sat up, ears askew. "What did I--"

"Get dressed and get out of here."

Kakashi turned his back on his Halloween treat, instead entering the relative seclusion of his spartanly decorated bedroom. In a fit of anger he swept several pictures, a wooden valet and miscellaneous clutter from the dresser opposite his bed. Twin photos-- one of Team Minato, the other of Team Seven-- crashed to the floor. He picked up the latter frame and hurled it at the wall, temporarily satisfied when it cracked the large plate glass mirror above the dresser.

This wasn't right, and it wasn't fair. Kakashi held his head in his hands, and tugged brutally at his wild mess of hair in a gesture he used only when completely frustrated. He wanted her-- _Sakura_-- so desperately. Yet he could never have her.

When the copy ninja looked up, he saw Koneko at his bedroom door, a look of sadness in her eyes. She was dressed, though a bit haphazardly, and was still struggling to contain her bounteous breasts in the highly engineered structure that barely secured them.

"I can't find my panties..." she began, but stopped mid-phrase when she caught his expression.

"What did I do?" She moved across the room, her golden eyes beseeching him.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing." Kakashi massaged his temple as he looked away. "No, that's not true. I know you came here with good intentions. But the truth is you've made things worse. You've made me see..."

"That you're in love."

"That I can't _have_ the one I love." He spat the words out, and they hung in the air with a finality that was depressing.

"I see." Koneko stood quietly, so quietly that for a moment Kakashi thought she had left. But when he turned around she was still standing there, eyes downcast, as though her evening had been ruined.

But that was ridiculous. She was a prostitute. She'd be paid in full no matter what the outcome.

Still Kakashi was touched. She had a work ethic not usually seen in those her age. Unlike those horrible academy brats, for instance.

"I'll leave," she said finally. "If you give me one last kiss."

He nodded reluctantly. "And then you'll go?"

She came to him, gingerly placing his arms around her in a loose embrace, and lifted her face to his.

Kakashi closed his eyes again. He couldn't resist imagining this was one last kiss with Sakura. When her lips parted, he gently explored her mouth, marveling at its warmth and its softness. Her tongue met his and elicited a gasp as she sucked on his body's second most sensitive organ. The signal was clear, but he refused.

"You said one kiss."

"It's not wrong to want more, is it?"

No, it wasn't wrong. He didn't resist as she dropped to her knees and removed the sweat pants that separated his organ from her eager mouth.

She was a pro. There was no question of this. The way she licked and sucked him, focusing on the head, then the very edge of his hardened cock: this could not be an instinctual gift. And when she took him deep into her throat, allowing him to bang against the very back of that cavity he was almost undone. Kakashi grasped her head, weaving his fingers into the long satin strands of her hair as he urged her to continue. Somehow wasn't surprised to hear a low chuckle.

He was done for. She knew it too, and fully realized he couldn't stop now.

Koneko brought him close several times, sensing when it was necessary to slow down for a while. Kakashi leaned against the dresser, grateful for its support. He'd never experienced such a state of carnal bliss before. He seemed to drift in and out of consciousness as she continued to suck and stroke him.

Kakashi was surprised and a little disappointed when she finally stopped.

"Now fuck me," she murmured, a defiant glare in her amber eyes.

Kakashi found that he couldn't say no. He lifted her to her feet and motioned to the bed.

"No. Right here." She leaned over the hardwood dresser, grasping its back edge as she lifted her ass into the air. With her heels on she was the perfect height for him, and before he knew it, Kakashi was inside of her again, pounding her mercilessly.

Such a magnificent ass.

"That's so _good_. Harder. Please."

He obliged.

He didn't call out her name, though--or Sakura's-- and didn't ask her to say his. This was purely physical, he told himself, a release of years of pent up need. Kakashi felt himself coming closer, felt the world fading away as his mind focused on the one sensation that mattered.

But she was coming, too. He could feel it.

"Sensei. Kakashi."

_What...the...fuck!_

He opened his eyes midway through his orgasm and was shocked at what he saw. Koneko was phasing in and out of view, her long black hair turning pink and back again as she climaxed violently. She lifted her head, and he saw her face in the broken mirror. Pale pink eyes turned green, and her features softened into those he knew well, but never expected to encounter under such circumstances.

He couldn't stop now, even if he'd wanted to. Kakashi spilled himself into her, into a woman who was slightly thinner and nowhere near as curvaceous as the drop dead gorgeous prostitute that had amused him all evening.

But in his eyes this woman was ten times more beautiful.

"Sakura. God, Sakura," Kakashi cried out before collapsing against her, completely spent.

They were silent for a while, the only noise in the room their noisy breathing as their bodies worked their way back to normalcy.

Almost recovered, Kakashi gathered his favorite pink-haired student into his arms and deposited her in his bed. He lay down next to her, but didn't touch her. Instead he focused his attention on the ceiling for a while.

"I'm having a hard time with this," he said after some time.

It was difficult for the copy ninja to accept that he'd had no idea. He was a master at detecting genjutsu. He should have seen right through this deception, but somehow Sakura had gotten into his mind and used his most intimate memories against him. But that wasn't the worst of it-- he'd been mind-fucked before. It was the same as being bested in a one-on-one sparring match. No, it was the resolution of this genjutsu that confounded him. And for his mistress of the night to turn into the mistress of his dreams was completely unthinkable. A relationship like this wasn't supposed to happen.

But it had.

"You know this is _completely_ wrong, don't you?" Kakashi turned to her, and looked deeply into eyes that seemed more innocent than ever.

Sakura nodded gravely.

"And that we'll face a court martial if the truth comes out?"

She nodded again. But this time a small smile played across her lips.

"But the truth is, Sensei, you and I _didn't_ have sex. I never came to your place. Koneko did."

"Ah." Kakashi thought for a minute. It was true that Sakura had never once set foot in his house—never once in all these years. There were no witnesses to say she had the night before, because technically, she hadn't. The highly analytical, and highly prudent copy ninja started to warm up to the idea. After all, what was done was done, and his most intelligent student seemed to have thought things out fully. If no one knew, where was the harm in being with each other?

"Will Koneko be coming back?" he asked cautiously.

Sakura giggled. "Anytime you like." She nestled against him, and he could sense an aura of pure joy emanating from her.

"Nightly." He imagined he must feel the same to her. A wave of happiness threatened to overwhelm him. The feeling was nearly foreign: Kakashi hadn't allowed himself this sensation in many, many years.

"Okay. Whatever you say, Sensei."

"You need to know--" Kakashi stopped short.

"Yes?"

"There's no turning back. I _won't_ go back. This won't be an...amusement for me. The stakes are enormous. Tell me it's not that for you. Not a game, not a mindless fling."

He wasn't thinking only of their careers. It was obvious to Kakashi that he couldn't face a life of austerity again. Not after tasting its opposite.

Sakura rested her head on his chest. "It's not. I thought this through carefully, Sensei. I've wanted this for a long time. And I was so sure you did, too. I'm sorry I resorted to deceit. But I _had_ to."

Kakashi laughed at the irony of the situation.

"Well, deception's our stock in trade, isn't it? There's nothing wrong with an illusion or two."

"You liked Koneko?" Sakura's expression was hopeful, reminding Kakashi of her constant need for reassurance years earlier. He hadn't seen that look in ages.

"How could I not? But how about a bunny next time?"

His favorite student giggled. "Sexy bunny or fuzzy?"

Kakashi nuzzled her neck. "What do you think?"

"Oh. Guess I'll need a costume. There should be some good after Halloween sales."

The copy ninja shrugged. "Pink carries them year-round." Leave it to a woman to bring up shopping at the barest provocation. The truth was he didn't care in the least what she dressed in, as long as she showed up. He quickly changed the subject.

"Your genjutsu has certainly improved. I had no idea, until you lost it."

"I wasn't expecting to, um..."

"So there _are_ certain situations where you lose chakra control." Kakashi tweaked his student's nipple. "Good to know."

He lazily stroked Sakura's hair as she lay in his arms.

"I'll have you know I prefer pink. If you are going to come here as Koneko, I want my Sakura back as soon as the door closes. Well, most of the time." An occasional visit from the voluptuous Koneko wouldn't be half bad. Variety was said to be the spice of life, after all.

Sakura smiled playfully. "Yes, Sensei."

"Why didn't you tell me? That you felt this way?"

"You would have said, 'No.'"

Kakashi sighed. She was right. Even if he'd realized her feelings he never would have approached her. And he would have refused her, had she approached him.

"Because you think you're a grumpy old man, and you worry too much about the rules."

The copy ninja smiled. "I had words with someone years ago about that very same subject."

"Apparently you didn't learn."

"I thought I did. Well, I have _now_."

Kakashi rolled his lover onto her back and mounted her, lavishing her with kisses. It was something to embrace the real Sakura, not some ersatz substitute. And this time, when he said, "Call me, Sensei," the response was even more stimulating.

Being a teacher certainly had its privileges.


End file.
